Modified: The Childhood of Imaginos
by Imaginos-Buzzardo-Desdinova
Summary: In August of 1801, a modified child was born in the state of New Hampshire.


MODIFIED

The Childhood of Imaginos

PROLOGUE

As the dog days of summer beat down upon the town of Hampton, New Hampshire, the midwives conferred amongst themselves.

One of the local women was in the last days of her confinement. The truth was that she had been in hiding from all save her elderly mother as she had turned up quite unexpectedly with child through a union she with a father she would not identify.

Some had insisted that she had found far too much comfort in the arms of the middle son of one of the church elders. Others said that she had been at clicket with Old Nick himself and that trying and convicting her as a witch was the only way to stop the end of days.

The midwives believed none of it. To them, she was a young woman who had been taken by either force or cajolery and then left to deal with whatever might come of it.

"The Devil indeed," the eldest midwife snorted. "Well, any man who'd take advantage of a kindly woman such as that is the Devil if you ask me."

"And to send her off is if she were the sinner," the youngest shook her head. "Too much of that around here if you ask me."

"Hush," the middle one warned. "If they hear any talk like that it'll be our necks. Ol' Maddie was hanged nigh a fortnight ago for saying such things if you forgot."

"I ain't forgot,"the youngest replied. "And a fine mind was lost when they took her. She wanted to be a doctor, I hear. Not just a midwife, but a bona fide physician."

"It'll be a cold day where Old Harry puts his hooves up when that happens," the eldest scoffed. "No man is going to want a woman telling him what to do."

A scream came from the wine cellar. Lifting the rug, the middle one made her way down the stairs to where Della labored. Her cries muffled by the knit blanket she was biting down on.

"I'm here," the midwife said. "You must do exactly what I tell you. It will be okay if you do."

"No…" Della insisted. "Something's not right."

"Well, you're not married for one," the midwife said. "But given the circumstances, I too would prefer scorn to being beaten regularly."

Della's labor was too far along for her to agree or disagree.

She struggled into the last night of July and into the dawn of the first August day in 1801 as the three midwives took shifts in their duties to her. Finally, she breathed her last breath, even as her son breathed his first.

"Shush, now, little one," the midwife said, looking sadly at the orphan in her arms. She cleaned him off and put him down for a nap while she went to get sustenance and to let the others know the child had come into the world at last.

The newborn had closed his storm blue eyes and dozed until the midwife had set him down in a makeshift cradle. Now tiny little eyelids fluttered open.

The eyes of an english buzzard stared into the empty room.

The modified child had been born.

CHAPTER 01:

The schoolmaster was seated at his desk when he heard a knock on the door.

"Enter," he summoned.

Teacher Jonas Ashford opened the door and stepped through.

"You wished to see me?"

The schoolmaster looked through the stack of papers on his desk before picking one up and holding it out to Ashford.

"Quite an interesting name, don't you think?"

Ashford looked at the paper.

"Imaginos," he read aloud. "Rather curious. What do you make of it?"

"I don't like to judge a person by their name," the schoolmaster told him. "Nor should you. However, there's more to worry about with this one than just his name."

"Oh?" Ashford asked, wondering what sort of mischief this child could've got into at so young an age.

"His eyes, for one," the schoolmaster explained. "Dark as dark brown can get without going all the way to black. And there's something off about them. You'll understand when you see him. It makes the other children uncomfortable, but he's got as much right to learn as any other boy his age."

"I'll do my best to see that he does," Ashford promised.

"Good," the schoolmaster declared.

"Hey, bunter baby!" It was Henry Adams, the town bully. Eight years old, he was a boisterous young fool who had ignored his brain to focus on his brawn. At the rate he was going, the townsfolk said he'd probably end up lagged for life by the age of twelve.

Imaginos kept walking to school.

"Bunter baby, bunter baby!"

The other boys who were following the same route as Henry and Imaginos whispered amongst themselves, taking silly little bets as to which of the two would win in a fight. The burly Henry, who most agreed was the stronger of the two, or the willowy Imaginos, who others argued was the faster and smarter.

Without turning, Imaginos replied, "I didn't know I had a mirror on my back!", and took off running.

Henry took off after him.

As the other boys filed into the classroom, not wishing to be punished for tardiness, Ashford watched out the window as Imaginos ran into the woods just beyond the school, Henry following close behind. He turned back to the class and cleared his throat.

"As I've just seen two of this class go past the school, I will wait five minutes for them to realize that they were supposed to come into the building."

This elicited a murmured chuckle from a few of the students.

Henry stopped and looked around. Imaginos was nowhere to be found.

"You can't hide forever," he warned. "I can wait all day if I have to."

He heard the flap of a bird's wings, but ignored this. "I'm going to get you. Just you wait."

The english buzzard landed in front of the school. A moment later, a confused child stood where it had alighted. The first bell sounded, pulling the boy back into the moment.

Imaginos walked into the classroom.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, sir," he said, having been taught his manners.

"We were just taking the rolls," Ashford told him, indicating a seat. "Name?"

"Imaginos."

CHAPTER 02:

When Henry walked into the classroom ten minutes late, he was irritated to see Imaginos sitting in a chair not far from the teacher's desk, reading quietly.

"You're late, young man," Ashford said, strictly. "We will discuss this after school. Go sit down and take out your study book."

Henry glared at Imaginos and then took his book out and glared at it as well.

"You won't get past me again," he hissed at the slighter boy. "Your days are numbered."

Imaginos wrote a small note, then wadded it up and flicked it in Henry's direction.

Henry opened it:

"I got past you once…"

*flick*

Henry opened the new one

"I'll get past you again."

*flick*

"... I bet you can't even read these!"

Henry took out his quill and wrote back

"I kan sew." and tossed it back at Imaginos as Ashford looked up from his own book.

"What was that?" the teacher asked, firmly.

"Missed the basket, sir," Henry lied.

"Of course you did, foolish boy," Ashford shook his head. "It's in the other direction."

The class laughed as Henry cast his eyes downward, shamefaced.

While this was going on, Imaginos took the time to write one last message

"Join a quilting bee, then."

"Imaginos," Ashford scolded.

"Sorry, sir," Imaginos simply replied.

"Accepted," Ashford smiled. "But I still want you to remain after class. You will be helping Henry clean up the classroom."

Imaginos gave a worried look in Henry's direction. Henry gave him a nasty look, then quickly went back to glaring at the book.

After the other pupils had gone home, Ashford turned to Henry and Imaginos.

"Henry, as you're the bigger and stronger of the two, I want you to go to the well and fetch a bucket of water to scrub the floors with," he said, sternly. "Imaginos, I want you to polish the furniture and organize the bookshelves."

"Where is the furniture polish, sir?" Imaginos asked as Henry headed out to fetch the bucket.

"In the storage shed with the bucket," Ashford told him.

WIth a sigh of resignation, Imaginos walked out of the classroom and headed off to the storage shed.

"You're mine now," Henry said as soon as they were face to face. "No mutton shunter's gonna do anything to me for it, either."

"Leave me alone," Imaginos warned, shaking as he backed away. He was afraid, but not of Henry. There was something he could not explain, a sense of foreboding. There was a short period of time during his confrontations with other boys that he could not explain. A moment of forgetting, then discovering that the danger had passed. He could sense that moment coming again.

Henry reached down to grab a heavy rock to hit Imaginos with.

When he rose to throw it, it dropped instantly out of his hand.

Imaginos was gone. It wasn't possible that he'd already gone back inside. Henry had only lowered his head for a second.

But gone he was. And standing on the fence less than one foot from where Imaginos had been was an English buzzard. It was looking right at Henry with an amused gleam in its eyes.

Henry started running, the bird giving chase in a playfully threatening sort of way.

Finally, Henry dodged into the classroom.

"Where's Imaginos?" Ashford asked.

"B… Buzz…. Buzz…" Henry tried to say.

"What?" Ashford demanded. "You're not making any sense."

"Bird…" Henry managed, collapsing into a chair.

Ashford dragged him back up to his feet.

"Enough of this foolishness," he said. "Come with me, you didn't even bother to get the bucket I asked for."

"But…" Henry protested.

"Come along," Ashford ordered, pulling Henry along after him as he left the classroom.

High above them, the English buzzard circled, swooped, and flew a triumphant ring around the school.

CHAPTER 03:

Imaginos ran all the way home. He still couldn't believe it. He had flown! Somehow, he had become a bird of prey and had chased the town bully all over the schoolyard. It had been fun. The thrill of leaving the ground, of being airborne was still coursing through him. He couldn't wait to tell his mother.

Prudence was at the stove when Imaginos rushed into the house.

"Wipe your feet," she reminded him, as she had done so every day. Schoolboys almost never remembered.

He stepped back outside and wiped his feet on the mat, then came back in.

"Guess what I did today, mom," he said, excitedly. Before she could answer he went on. "I flew. Up in the air. It was amazing."

"You flew?" Prudence asked in disbelief. "Kids and their imaginations." she said as she turned back to the stove to stir the soup. The mew of a buzzard sounded behind her and she turned to see it standing on the kitchen table.

Startled at first, she took a moment to compose herself before simply saying "Feet off the table."

The bird moved from the table to the back of the chair.

"Now, we can't call you Imaginos in that shape. And you must never tell anyone what you can do. They might take you away and put you in a circus show. And you don't want that."

Imaginos transformed back and looked sadly at his mother. "But it's so wonderful. I can fly to school every day and it'll take less time to get there."

"No! You mustn't do that!" Prudence warned. "I want you to promise me you'll only become Buzzardo in dire emergencies!"

"Buzzardo?" Imaginos asked.

"That's what I'm calling that bird you become," Prudence told him as she added celery to soup, "since it appears to be an English buzzard. Honestly, I thought you might be part bird."

"Really?"

"When you were an infant, there were a couple of times when your eyes changed. They looked like bird's eyes," Prudence explained. "I was scared, of course. But I loved you so much, I told myself that it was just a part of you like your fingers and your toes."

"I wish I could fly more," Imaginos said, sadly. It had been amazing and now he was told he couldn't do it.

"Wash your hands and get ready for supper," Prudence told him.

Soon they were at the dinner table. After grace, Prudence placed a ladleful of soup in Imagino's bowl.

"Tell you what," she said, "there's a clearing in the forest not too far from here. If you're good in school and behave yourself at home, I'll take you there on Sunday after church so you can do your flying. Is that a deal?"

"Sure, mom!" Imaginos smiled as he ate his soup.

Prudence smiled at the boy she had raised. But her heart was worried. She hoped he could resist the urge to transform whenever he wanted to. It made him special, yes. But it also was a danger to him. People had been burned alive for just being accused of such powers. She feared the same could also happen to him.

They would have to be careful.

CHAPTER 04:

The clearing was damp from the previous night's rain as Prudence set the blanket down and began to spread it out for the picnic.

Imaginos put down the basket he'd been carrying and looked up at the sky. His second home.

"Mom…"

"Finish helping me set up for lunch, then you can spread your wings for a bit," Prudence told him. She worried, but it was unlikely that anyone would see them. Even if they did see Buzzardo flying high above the trees, they wouldn't be very likely to think it was anything more than a common English buzzard.

Imaginos was six year old, after all. And a six year old with that kind of gift wouldn't want to bottle it up. No. It was best that Prudence find a safe outlet for this facet of his life.

Imaginos took the plates from the basket and set them on the blanket, placing the cloth napkins atop them while Prudence took some peapods, and green beans as well as cucumber sandwiches and a small bag of walnuts.

"Okay," Prudence said. "A quick flight around the boundary for now, then you can land and have lunch and then have a longer flight later."

Imaginos took the shape of Buzzardo and flew up into the air, thrilling to the feel of the air beneath his wings. He circled the clearing for a few minutes, mewing happily finally landing on the ground beside the blanket.

Henry looked up as he heard the sound of the bird he'd heard in the schoolyard. An English buzzard was circling the clearing in the woods. Excitedly, he rushed into his home shouting.

"Dad, Imaginos is flying again! Come see!"

His father sighed grumpily as he followed his boisterous son outside. "Where?"

Henry pointed at the bird high up over the clearing.

"It's just a bird," his father said. "Now, stop being so foolish and get to work on your homework."

Henry stomped back into the house.

He was determined to prove that the bird he'd seen was Imaginos.

CHAPTER 05:

Buzzardo flew happily around the clearing. He swooped. He flew upward. He spiralled downward. This last was a mistake since it made him a bit dizzy and he crashed into the ground a few yards away from the blanket.

Prudence rushed over to the bird as Buzzardo righted himself and shook his wings indignantly.

Seeing that he was okay, Prudence laughed amusedly.

"Mom," Imaginos said, once he'd transformed. "It's not funny."

"It's funny because you're not hurt," Prudence explained. "You were doing good until then, though. What happened?"

"Got dizzy," Imaginos said.

"You might want to fly in wider circles," Prudence suggested, offering him a handful of walnuts.

Popping on in his mouth, Imaginos chewed, then swallowed and said. "It's still fun to be up there. I can't wait until next Sunday to fly again."

"Well, I'm glad your little accident hasn't put you off flying," Prudence said with a small smile on her face. Then she looked up at the cloudy sky. "Looks like rain. We'd better pack up the picnic and head home."

Even with both of them packing up the food and folding the blanket, it was pouring by the time they reached the edge of the forest. They were both soaked through by the time they got home.

Stomping their feet on the mat to get the mud off their shoes, they hustled inside and went to their rooms to change out of their wet clothing.

Alan Adams took a swig of chaptalized wine as his wife Grace swept the kitchen floor that their son Henry had just tracked dirt all over.

Despite being told not to many times, Henry just came in every day bringing in seemingly as much dirt as he could get on his shoes.

"It's time we did something about your child," Grace said to her husband.

"My child," Alan huffed. "Don't you mean your child? You carried the brat."

"Well, he's a boy," Grace reminded him. "That means his upbringing is chiefly your responsibility. He's out of control."

"He's worse than that," Alan took another swig and set his cup down. "I think he's crazy as a loon. Keeps claiming that one of his classmates can turn into a bird."

"That settles it," Grace said. "You're taking him to Dr. Bottrell tomorrow. I'll not have him going around talking like that. He'll be a laughingstock, and they'll think it's our fault."

"Henry doesn't need some quacksalver messing with his head," Alan said pointedly. "He just needs a good paddling."

"Then I suggest you give him one next time he misbehaves," Grace said, turning her attention from sweeping to shelling peas for dinner. "Where is he now?"

"In his bedroom doing his homework," Alan told her.

In truth, Henry was not doing his homework. Nor was he in bed. He had slipped out the window and was currently walking along the streets running a stick along the neighbor's picket fences and stomping at their pets to scare them, laughing as they ran off.

A bird sat on a fencepost several yards ahead and he approached it with excitement, only to sag with disappointment when he saw it was just a plain falcon. He shooed it away, then aimed a stone at it.

A hand grabbed his arm causing him to drop the stone in shock.

"It's bad luck to throw stones at birds," the man warned. "You'll make God angry."

Henry looked at the town clergyman in irritation.

"It's just a stupid bird," he complained.

"God loves all living things," the clergyman reminded Henry. "His grace extends to all the things that run and fly and burrow, and swim. And to all the plants and trees that grow upon this earth, even those that people call weeds."

"What about people who turn into birds," Henry said. "Does God love them, too?"

"I've never met a person who becomes a bird," the clergyman said, thoughtfully. "But, yes, God loves them, too." smiling he added. "I wish I could fly like a bird. To be just a little bit closer to God for even an hour would bring joy to my heart."

"But wouldn't that be witchcraft?" Henry was intent on getting Imaginos into as much trouble as possible.

"I think if a person was born with such an ability it would be a wonderful gift from the Lord," the clergyman decided. "And if I were you, I wouldn't go around saying such things. Not if you don't want to end up in a mental hospital. Now, shouldn't you be home? I bet you snuck out. I'll just take you back to make sure you don't get into any more mischief."

Henry grumbled all the way back to his house.

CHAPTER 06:

On the following Sunday, the clergyman, Pastor Jack Harrow, stood before his congregation in the pulpit of the local church.

"Today," he said to them, "I would like to talk to you about the goodness of God's many gifts to us all."

Prudence looked at Imaginos, then smiled as if she shared a wonderful secret with him, which she did.

"Each one of us is special in the eyes of the Lord," Pastor Harrow explained. "Our gifts may be small," he continued, he turned to look at Imaginos, "or they may be great. But great or small, they are all the Lord's blessing."

Prudence glanced worriedly at her charge. Had someone found out about Buzzardo somehow.

Imaginos was smiling. He thought the Pastor might know and that the man was suggesting tolerance and acceptance for his unique ability.

"Now, let us turn to Isaiah 30:41," the Pastor continued, "but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up like eagles,"

"Or English buzzards," Imaginos whispered to Prudence who gave him a scolding look for interrupting the sermon.

Imaginos had the decency to look abashed as the Pastor went on

"...shall not faint." he concluded, Imaginos and Prudence having missed a bit of the quote. "Now, let us consider that. What does the Bible mean about flying in this instance? We are talking about joy. About the elation a believer feels in the anticipation of the Lord's return. But what about true flight? Do we envy the birds who soar above us? Many of us do. But why? Are we and the flowers who are forever rooted to the earth any less worthy of God's love than the birds and the clouds who drift high in the air?"

Henry listened restlessly. He couldn't believe this Pastor was taking Imaginos' side. Didn't he know that this was dark magic? Perhaps the younger boy had bewitched the man somehow. Yes. That had to be it. Henry would prove Imaginos' sorcery and then the other boy would be locked away, or maybe even sent to Hell where he belonged.

"We have a sorcerer in our church," he declared, standing up.

"Sit down," his mother said, angrily. "You're making a fool of yourself with that nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Henry said. He pointed at Imaginos, "I've seen him change into a bird! He's evil!"

"If that were true," the Pastor said, not believing a word of it and chalking it up to a child's overactive imagination, "it would not be an evil, but a mark of God's blessing. We must not see our differences as cursed or sinful, but as the uniqueness that the Lord has given us so that we may benefit our sisters and our brothers."

When the sermon was over, Henry's parents dragged him over to Prudence and Imaginos.

"Now, you apologize to him," his father said.

"I'm not apologizing to some devil," Henry said, irately. He glared at Imaginos. "We both know what you are."

"And we both know that you're the meanest kid in town," Imaginos said simply. "This is just another example of your cruelty. You're trying to get me killed."

"Now, children," Henry's mother said. "This is holy ground. That's no place to fight. Henry, you apologize right now, or you will not be allowed dessert for a week."

Henry turned to Imaginos. "I'm sorry," he said, clearly not meaning it.

Imaginos didn't believe him and shrugged.

"Let's get home," Prudence said. "I want to do some work in the garden. You can help me pull the weeds."

"Okay," Imaginos agreed, following her away from the church, his mind full of thoughts about the sermon that day.

CHAPTER 07:

Prudence and Imaginos ate their post-church picnic lunch quietly in the field. Imaginos wanted to soar. To swoop. To circle the clearing as he'd done the week before. But after the sermon, he was afraid Prudence wouldn't let him.

"I don't know if it's a good idea," she said, concernedly. "That Henry already suspects, or knows. And he's not going to let up until he's turned the whole town against you."

"Please?" Imaginos begged. "I won't go too high, I promise."

Prudence hated making him feel bad, but she was also afraid of losing him.

"Let's finish lunch while I think about it," she finally said.

"Okay," Imaginos sighed, unconvinced that she'd let him soar again.

Just beyond the trees, Pastor Harrow stood and listened. He'd come to invite Prudence and Imaginos to the church gathering on the following Saturday, not to eavesdrop. But the conversation he'd heard had made him stop.

"So, he can fly," he whispered to himself. "The laws say I must report such things. But he's just a boy. There's no way I'll turn a child over to those monsters."

He stepped into the clearing.

"Good afternoon, Miss Prudence, Imaginos," he said.

"How… how much…" Prudence said, pulling Imaginos protectively into her grasp.

"Don't worry," Harrow said, "I'm not going to turn him in. I promise in God's name."

"That's good enough for me," Prudence decided.

Pastor Harrow turned to Imaginos. "So, young man, what type of bird do you turn into?"

"An English buzzard," Prudence replied. "A rather handsome specimen. Go ahead," she said, turning to Imaginos.

A moment later, Imaginos was gone and Buzzardo was standing on the picnic blanket.

"Amazing," Pastor Harrow said, smiling in awe at Buzzardo who preened himself proudly. "Don't be too proud," he warned the bird. "Pride cometh before a fall. And you might want to keep your eye out for that Henry fellow. I don't know why he has it in for you. Maybe he's just closed-minded. But don't let him see what you can do. It's best that your ability is never crushed. You might truly need it for something important one day."

Buzzardo flew around once, then landed on the blanket and changed back into Imaginos.

"I can handle Henry," he said.

"I hope you aren't planning anything rotten," Harrow warned. "I'm willing to give you a pass, because I believe your ability is a gift from God. But if you misuse that gift to do harm to others, I will expose you to the community."

"What does that mean?" Imaginos asked Prudence.

"It means he'll tell everyone what you can do," Prudence said. "You surely wouldn't…"

"If I thought he posed a danger to others, it would be my duty," the pastor said. "You might think 'it's just that mean kid', but once someone gets a taste of violence, it becomes addictive. Promise me, Imaginos. Promise you will never use your power to hurt anyone."

"I promise," Imaginos said, solemnly.

"You two believed me before," Pastor Harrow said. "Now, I believe you. I have to return to the church, however. I will see you both on Sunday."

Imaginos and Prudence watched him leave.

"That went better than I expected," Prudence remarked.

CHAPTER 08:

On the morning of the following Monday, Imaginos was sitting in class as Ashford wrote that day's first lesson on the board.

"Now, class," Ashford said. "I want to see how well you've been studying your readers. What do you think this word says?"

On the chalkboard he wrote:

Marionette

"Mayonnaise," Henry announced proudly, not bothering to raise his hand.

"That is incorrect," Ashford said. "And please raise your hand and wait your turn next time."

Imaginos rolled his eyes. How silly could a person be. Even he could see there was no Y in the word. He raised his hand as did three other students from his own age to nine years of age.

Ashford turned to a seven year old girl. "Go ahead, Olive."

"Mari-o-nette," Olive sounded out. "Marionette."

"Very good," Ashford said, brightly. "You've been studying. Glad to see it.

Imaginos nodded his own approval at Olive while Henry scowled.

"Now, now, Henry," Ashford said, soothingly. "If you put a little effort into your homework, you can be just as good as the other students. I'd be happy to help you find a tutor if you need help."

"I don't need a tutor," Henry said. "Tutors are for dummies."

Ashford's face grew cross as Henry stood up and stomped out of the classroom muttering "Stupid Imaginos. Stupid bird-face."

"What did I do?" Imaginos asked no one in particular.

"Don't worry about it," Ashford said. "He's just mad at himself for not studying and making a fool of himself as a result. Now, class, let that be a lesson to all of us. If we don't pay attention, we will inevitably make a fool of ourselves."

"But he can still learn, right?" Olive asked.

"Everyone can learn, no matter how old they are," Ashford told them all. "As long as you're patient, and your teacher is patient, you can learn. Just pay attention and ask questions when it's your turn to speak."

"Is it true you can turn into a bird?" Olive asked Imaginos as they headed outside for nooning.

Imaginos didn't want to lie to a possible friend. But he didn't want to let everyone know either. So instead he asked. "What if I could?"

"That would be really amazing," Olive said. "I guess it would be okay with me. But I can understand why you don't want people to know. I suppose it would scare the grownups. And they do bad things to stuff they don't understand."

"Some kids do bad things to that stuff, too," Imaginos told her. "I just don't know why he decided to pick on me. He's been mean to me since the first day of school."

"I guess he's just a coward," Olive suggested. "That's why he's picking on someone smaller than him. I'm Olive, by the way. Olive Hughes."

"Imaginos," Imaginos told her. "I don't have a last name, though. So it's just Imaginos."

"It's good to meet you, Imaginos," Olive said smiling. "You have a really interesting name."

"Thank you, Olive," Imaginos replied.

"Hey!" another girl called. "Olly!"

"I guess I have to go," Olive said. "Mary and Mabel want to play with me."

"Well, I'll see you later, then," Imaginos said. He found a bird's nest and examined it. There was a broken eggshell on the ground under it, so he picked it up to ask the teacher what kind of bird had hatched from it.

"Homesick?" Henry asked.

Imaginos quickly pocketed the shell. Rather than give in to the bullying, he smiled. "Can you believe how intelligent our flying friends are? Look how well this nest is woven. I bet our best builders couldn't do any better if they were given the same material. Actually, why don't you ask your dad? Isn't he a builder? I would bet anything he and anyone in his crew could take lessons from the bird who made this ne…"

He was cut off as Henry punched him in the side of the jaw and knocked him down.

A moment later, it happened. Imaginos was gone, and in his place was a very...VERY… angry English buzzard.

One of the other boys ran to get the teacher.

"Jack," Ashford said, looking concerned at a scholar running into the classroom before nooning was over. "What's wrong?"

"Henry hit Imaginos," Jack said. "He changed! Imaginos changed! And he's not very happy!"

Ashford followed Jack out to the schoolyard where Imaginos was diving repeatedly at Henry, cuffing him with his wings and shrieking each time he passed over him.

Ashford pulled Henry into the clear and watched as Imaginos (actually Buzzardo but Ashford didn't know him by that name) alighted at the top of a tall tree.

"See! I told you!" Henry said.

"And you just had to punch him to prove your point," Ashford said, gazing up as the bird who was simply resting in the treetop. "Let me tell you, if I'd been him, I'd have been doing a lot more that swooping at slapping you with my wings. I'd have dug my talons into you. Now, you get back into class." he looked up. "The rest of you as well. I'll try and diffuse the situation with Imaginos."

He made his way to the middle of the nooning field and looked up at the English buzzard.

"Come on down," he called, "You're not in trouble. It wasn't nice of Henry to hit you. And I don't blame you for being mad at him."

Buzzardo stayed where he was. He felt shaken and afraid. He'd lost his temper and had changed. He'd changed and attacked Henry! He was in so much trouble, he was sure of it.

School ended a couple hours later, and Ashford pulled Olive aside.

"I saw you talking to Imaginos earlier," he said. "I want you to take this note to his mother. I think I will need her to convince him to come down out of that tree." He did not want to leave Imaginos, in case he decided to run away… or fly away as the case may be.

Olive looked up at the bird. "Such a nice looking bird," she said, thoughtfully. "Sure, I can do that."

CHAPTER 09:

"Miss Prudence," Olive said as soon as Prudence had opened the door. "Imaginos is in trouble. Henry hit him and he got mad and...changed!"

"Oh, no!" Prudence exclaimed. "Where is he?"

"Back at school," Olive told her. "He's in a really tall tree and he won't come down. I think he's scared."

"He's scared," Prudence said, thoughtfully, as they walked to the school. "He must think he's in trouble. He is, of course, but only as far as having to do extra chores when he gets home. Who saw him?" she asked.

"All the kids saw him," Olive told her. "It scared some of them, but some of us think it's really amazing."

"I just hope the frightened ones don't run around telling their parents," Prudence told her as they reached the school.

Sure enough, Buzzardo was still perched at the top of the tree

"Buzzardo," Prudence called up to him. "Come down here at once."

Buzzardo flew to a lower branch.

"All the way down," Prudence said, in a scolding tone. "I want to see Imaginos standing in front of me in two minutes."

Less than two minutes later, Imaginos was standing before her.

"Now, young man, what did I tell you when the whole Buzzardo thing began?" Prudence asked, sternly.

"But, Mom! He hit me!" Imaginos whimpered. He didn't want to be grounded. And what if Prudence told Pastor Harrow? He would have Imaginos taken away. And Imaginos didn't think the place he would be put would be very nice.

"Does that give you the right to attack?" Prudence asked.

"No," Imaginos said, shamefacedly.

"Do you think you should apologize to Henry?" Prudence asked.

"He won't apologize to me for punching me," Imaginos replied. "And if I do that will look like it was all my fault. I am sorry, honest. I just don't want to apologize to Henry and give people the wrong idea."

"I think you gave people the wrong idea when you were buffeting him as a bird," Ashford told him.

"I guess you're right," Imaginos decided.

"That's him!" Henry's mother said, rushing toward to school with a policeman in tow. "That's the evil monster who attacked my son!"

"Is this true, young man?" the police officer asked Imaginos.

"I was defending myself," Imaginos explained. "He punched me in the jaw."

The police officer examined the bruise.

"Looks like a perfectly normal schoolyard brawl, ma'am," he told Henry's mother.

"That… freak… turned into a bird and was attacking my Henry!" she replied, angrily. "You ask the other students! He changed right in front of them! He's a warlock or something!"

"Even if warlocks did exist, ma'am'," the officer pointed out. "I doubt they'd learn how to change into another creature before they were teenagers. How old are you, young man?"

"Six," Imaginos told him.

"So I doubt he did anything of the sort." the policeman said. "Well, I'll be going. I'm sorry to put you through such a problem."

"It's not a problem," Prudence said.

"Mrs. Adams," Imaginos said as they turned to leave.

Henry's mother turned.

"I'm sorry, I kicked Henry in the shin when he punched me," Imaginos told her.

Mrs. Adams suspected he'd done more, but she sighed in acceptance and followed the police officer away.

"I'm proud of you," Prudence told Imaginos. "So you're only grounded for this weekend rather than the next two."

"Thank you, mom," Imaginos told her.

"You're welcome," Prudence said. "Now, let's get home. You have some chores to help me with as soon as your homework is done."

CHAPTER 10:

On Sunday, Pastor Harrow stopped Imaginos and Prudence after the sermon.

"Imaginos," he said, "I warned you against attacking in your bird form, did I not?"

"Yes, sir," Imaginos was trembling. "It's just that. I got mad when Henry hit me."

"Why did you not just go and tell the teacher?" Pastor Harrow asked.

"I was too angry to think clearly," Imaginos explained. "Please, sir…"

"No," Pastor Harrow said. "I will have to speak to the authorities about it. I have no choice. You are dangerous. I have no doubt they will place you in confinement."

Imaginos immediately transformed into Buzzardo and flew away as fast as he could fly.

"Wait!" Prudence called out. She turned angrily on Pastor Harrow. "How could you say that? My son is heading off now, to God knows where! He'll be alone! He has no way to defend himself."

"Your son," Pastor Harrow pointed out, "is a bird of prey. He can fend for himself."

"He doesn't know how to hunt," Prudence retorted. "How is he supposed to get food?"

"He will learn by watching the other birds," Pastor Harrow argued.

"I hope you're right," Prudence sighed. "There's no way we can catch him."

Buzzardo was just a speck in the air at this point. Then it was gone.

Prudence wept softly and prayed in her mind for her son.


End file.
